LOST PERSPECTIVE 5
READ MY MIND
By Bellegeste
A/N: I think Hermione comes over as a bit of a control freak here, but in canon she can be ruthless when she thinks she is right - think about when she had McGonagall confiscate the Firebolt (PoA)… She is sensitive up to a point, but has blind spots.
CHAPTER 8: HARRY:HERMIONE / HERMIONE:SNAPE
The candles guttered as the kitchen door closed. Hermione and Harry exchanged grimaces.
"Sense of humour failure!" Harry quipped, though he too was shocked.
"Oh, for God's sake, shut up, Harry! What the hell did you have to go and say that for? Have you any idea how embarrassing that was? It's not funny. You've upset him again. You just can't help yourself, can you? What were you thinking?"
"What was I supposed to think?" Harry retorted. "I get back home and find you here! He's invited you round for a cosy chat - just the two of you - and there you are, sitting in a huddle…"
"We weren't! We were talking about Africa!"
"Oh, come off it, Hermione! You can stop the innocent act with me. I'm not blind, you know. You were drooling over him all through dinner - don't pretend you weren't. And if anyone's upset him, it's you - giving him an amazing present like that. Nundu claw? You could buy your own bloody laboratory for what that stuff's worth! And then making out you only want it testing? He must have thought he was home and dry, and then…. That's downright mean. There's a word for women like you! Prick-teaser!"
"Harry, I'm not!" Hermione was appalled. Had she been flirting with Snape? Had she been that blatant? She knew she'd started to unbend a little, and she'd been flattered that he'd shown so much interest in the way she'd used the scorpion venom…
"I've never given him any reason to think… It's not like that any more. Harry, you haven't told him? You promised me you wouldn't say anything! He invited me here to see you, Harry. He said you wanted to talk to me. I got the feeling he was trying to get us together."
"Us? Together? What, you and me? That's crazy!" Harry rubbished the thought.
"Thanks a lot!"
"No, I didn't mean it like that. He's always saying you were a positive influence, and that we shouldn't let a childish quarrel get in the way of our friendship. But getting us together? He simply wouldn't do that - "
"Well, it's obvious that's what he thinks. All those smutty comments over dinner - if anyone was flirting, it was you!"
"I was just mucking around. You know that."
"Yes, I know that, but does he? No wonder he thought it was some kind of sick joke! Oh, this is awful. What must he think of me? I can't face him. I'd better go. I'm sorry. You'll have to say goodbye for me. Oh, and thank Quig for the meal."
Was she going to end up running away again? So much for taking an adult approach.
Harry was looking more and more bewildered.
"Don't go, Hermione. We need to sort this out. Look, I'm sorry. I really thought he must have said something. The two of you seemed so - I don't know - on the same wavelength. There seemed to be this kind of 'thing' going on between you all through dinner. I didn't get it at first, and then I figured he must have finally told you…"
"Told me what?"
"Hermione! You're not saying you haven't noticed the way he looks at you?"
"Looks? At me? Don't be silly."
"I'm not. For Merlin's sake, Hermione, he's liked you for ages…"
"Oh, liked… That's me - good old, likeable Hermione. Snape doesn't like me, Harry. He doesn't like anyone."
"No, not like that. I mean, liked."
At one time this would have been the answer to her prayers and yet now, as Harry spoke the words, she didn't trust them. She wasn't sure she even wanted to hear them. It wasn't possible.
"You've got it all wrong, Harry. He may think I'm clever and, well, mentally stimulating, but that's as far as it goes. He's not interested in me. Not in that way. Why would he be?" A little lapse into self-pity.
"Why? Hermione, he's a man, isn't he? Have you looked at yourself recently? You're quite… alright looking."
Hermione pulled on a stretchy smile. In his clumsy way Harry was only trying to be supportive.
"Thanks, Harry, but I know who I am, and how I look. And I'm OK with it. I may not be some kind of 'sex-pot', but if men can't see beyond - "
"Just shut up for a minute, will you? You're not hearing me. You know what your problem is? You intimidate them - us. You're too damned brainy. It scares the shit out of us. No wonder blokes are terrified to go out with you - unless they're like 'dahlink Victor', too thick to realise…"
"That's a rotten thing to say," she objected, flattered nonetheless by his back-handed compliments.
"No, I mean it, Hermione. Don't you see? Snape's probably the only man you'll ever meet who can handle you - er, intellectually, I mean. Oh heck…" Harry was beetroot red by now. Talking this way about his own father struck him as distasteful. "What? What's the matter? I thought that was what you wanted?"
"It was. It used to be. But things have changed, Harry. I was just a kid…"
"Is there someone else?"
"No."
"So you still like him?" Harry would never figure out women.
"Yes, of course I do… but… Harry, just because you like someone, it doesn't mean you're queuing up to settle down and have their babies… You've already got us married off and living in domestic bliss in Hogsmeade… It's not that simple."
She wasn't sure that she had the stamina to get involved with Snape. Any relationship with him would be an emotional dragon-ride - he was so terribly touchy, so difficult. And she wasn't the same hot-headed, smitten teenager she'd been two years ago. He could still set those Billywigs buzzing in her stomach, but she had changed, her priorities had altered: she had her work now, her independence; she wasn't ready to play 'happy families'.
"I just wish I could have met him ten years from now – that's all."
"Need a Time-turner for that…"
"You know what I mean, Harry. There's so much I want to do before I get… involved, with anybody."
"But at school…"
"Oh, I know." She gave a giggle. "What can I say? Hormones! I've grown up a bit since then."
Harry was staring at Hermione as though it were he who had just met her for the first time. Something about her was different, and he wasn't sure he was happy with it. The dedication and energy she had at one time devoted to essay-writing had transferred itself to her new work. She never could do things by halves - everything always had to be so perfect. It was like the third year all over again when she had worked herself into the ground, doubling up on her lessons - and she had used a Time-turner then! And now…
"You can do your job and still have a love life, Hermione. People do it all the time."
"Yes, but… don't you see, Harry? What I'm doing now is so worthwhile - I need to be able to give it everything I've got. It seems selfish, don't you think, to jeopardise that for the sake of a relationship? Rather self-indulgent? When there are bigger things at stake? I'm afraid relationships will have to take a bit of a back seat for the next few years."
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Do you have any idea how pretentious and calculating all that sounds?"
There was a hint of ruthlessness about her that previously he'd only glimpsed in passing - when she'd put the Hiccobubblus on Ron, for instance, or the cool determination she had shown in 'obtaining' ingredients from Snape's store cupboard, or the time they had rescued Sirius and Buckbeak.
"What about studying tribal medicine? Your so-called research? It's all so much moonshine and pixie-dust! You were stringing him along!"
"No, I do want to do that. But not yet. I need more field experience…"
"Huh." Harry was angry - with her, and with himself. What did he think he was doing? Playing Devil's advocate? Why was he encouraging Hermione to have a relationship with his father? At one time the very thought had made him sick. He raked his hair back, out of his eyes, and for a second she saw the jagged line of his scar, pale under the tan. Neither of them spoke. Hermione prodded the grounds in the bottom of her coffee cup, not meeting his eye. If she manoeuvred them into something resembling the map of Africa perhaps she could convince him that her job was destined by fate…
"This is all hypothetical anyway, Harry. It doesn't really matter what I feel. It's you he's mad at. How could you say that?" Hermione knew she was blushing with embarrassment all over again. "Go and find him, and apologise."
"You go and find him. He's upset with me, but it's you he wants."
"Oh, not that again, Harry. We've been through this." If this emotional piggy-in-the-middle were an example of what it would be like to be involved in Harry's family, then she was well out of it.
"Hermione, just listen to me. According to Draco…"
"Draco! Where does he come into all this? It's got nothing to do with Draco." She interrupted sharply.
"No, but Snape told him - "
"Why was he discussing me with Malfoy? Oh, never mind. Why do you men ever do anything? What did he say?"
"I don't know exactly, but according to Draco, the reason Snape left Hogwarts was because - "
" - he was avoiding me!" The idea horrified and delighted her.
"He didn't want to bring the school into disrepute. Sooner or later there would have been a major scandal. You can't keep that sort of thing quiet for long. And he - you know, because of all the Death Eater stuff and the business with my mother and everything - he doesn't take this kind of thing lightly…"
Each new revelation was a precious ingredient added to the potion - and the result was intoxicating. She let it bubble gloriously in her veins until the fizzing stopped, the liquid flattened.
"But that was two years ago. He was a mess then, Harry. I don't think he knew what he was doing. Maybe he did like me for a while… But it wasn't really me he wanted - it was someone - it could have been anyone - it could have been you, if you'd made more of an effort - someone to be nice to him…"
"Try being nice to a Lionfish…" Harry grumbled. He had tried, hadn't he? Hermione didn't know what she was talking about.
"It wouldn't have taken much, you know," she scolded him, her brown eyes full of reproach.
"I know." Harry hung his head.
An alternate version of the last two years scrolled into their minds – a version with less drama, more understanding – but did this one have a happy ending? They read the past in silence. Hermione was the first to tear her eyes away.
"But why didn't he just talk to me?" she wailed.
"Him? Talk? That'll be the day! What would you have done?" asked Harry. "And what are you going to do now?"
What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
"Reculer pour mieux sauter," she murmured to herself, not thinking he'd hear.
Harry shot her a pained look.
"Oh, Merlin! He's not got you at it too," he moaned.
"At what?"
"Quoting stuff in French. Snape does that. It bugs me to death. What's it mean anyway?"
"Nothing." She tried to laugh it off. "I don't know why I said it really. It's from a Muggle book I was reading at my parents' house. Lawrence(1). The two main characters are talking about - well, about marriage, actually, as an experience – and Ursula says something like, 'It's more likely to be the end of experience'… Quite a scary thought, isn't it?"Hermione was avoiding the immediate issue.
But Harry was more scared by the thought of long winter evenings with Hermione and Snape exchanging erudite French allusions, while he felt totally excluded… She was supposed to be so intelligent, and yet she couldn't grasp the simple truth that she and Snape were made for each other…
"Forget the work for a minute. What does your instinct tell you, Hermione? You must have some idea."
Hermione had never set much store by instinct. That was more Luna's territory. Anyway, her instincts here were no help at all; they were all over the place. They prophesied 'joy and pain', 'success and catastrophe' - Sibyll Trelawney could have done a better job with a soggy tea-bag. Harry had already singled-out the one gut feeling she felt she could trust: that she and Snape were like-minded. Would that be enough? It could be the basis for a friendship. They'd soon discover whether or not they were compatible. Realistically, she could see more mileage in friendship than in a tempestuous, passionate, possibly glorious, but inevitably short-lived affair. Could she settle for that?
"Are you going to translate, or not?" Getting no answer regarding instincts, Harry returned to her quotation.
"Oh, that… It just means 'Take a step back in order to get a better jump'. I told you it was silly. Don't know what made me say it."
"Is that what you're doing?" Harry asked.
Bother Harry! She underestimated him, sometimes.
"Me? No. I don't know. Maybe…"
"But Hermione, he'll be gutted."
"You think? No, no he won't. Not if I explain - he'll understand. Disappointed maybe, but… It's better this way, Harry, in the long run - it really is. Or will be. Better."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
X X X
She found him exactly where Harry had said he would be - half way up a small, grassy hillside, where the ground levelled off into an uneven plateau, before dropping away steeply on the far side to the blackness of a deep valley. Somewhere down there, she knew, was Snape Manor, shrouded in the night. It was a miracle she had found the place at all, in the dark, but some sixth sense had guided her on, an animal instinct drawing her to his presence.
As she hurried after him into the unknown, Hermione had been running through the first draft of the coming scene, even though she knew it was a futile exercise. Her pre-rehearsed speeches never worked - the other characters never responded the way they were supposed to. They so often confused the script with lines of their own!
She was going to tell Snape calmly, with complete candour, that Harry was a friend, nothing more. Just a friend. That was the easy part. And then she'd tell him - what? That she loved him? That she used to think she loved him but now she wasn't sure how she felt? That she liked him, but didn't want to rush things? That she was going back to Africa next week? That she was prepared to give up her job and work as his research assistant in the potions lab? That she was fond of him but they'd have to see how things panned out…? That his mere handshake ignited her entire nervous system? That friendship was all she could offer or accept? It was all so contradictory. She was into her nth rewrite on the next couple of pages of dialogue. She couldn't imagine how she would ever begin to tell Snape how she felt. Hermione normally prided herself on being forthright, and she despised the very word 'coy', but the complexity of what she was about to say reduced her to tongue-tied incoherence.
Gashes of inky infinity had rent the afternoon's low, snow-cloud curtain; stripes of moonlight silvered the hillside. Spot-lit for a second, bushes, trees and looming shapes appeared, then slipped noiselessly away like zebra into the night.
'I love him; I love him not'… she was plucking emotional petals as she walked, dropping them one by one, leaving the path behind her strewn with pearly white ovals of indecision.
She didn't see him at first, he was standing so still, a pillar of solitude, chiselled in stone. In the frosty, December air his arms were tightly folded over his chest, against the cold, against the world, hands thrust into his armpits. Purposefully, she climbed the last remaining steps to his side.
He made no move to acknowledge her arrival, though he must have known she was there. The silence between them stretched beyond acceptable through awkward to inexcusable, and finally came full circle back to neutral. It was time to speak up.
"Harry and I…" she began gently, "Harry's just - "
But he cut in sharply:
"Harry is tactless, insensitive and indiscreet!"
"No, Sir, you don't understand - what Harry said just now… He didn't mean - "
"His implication was clear and invidious!"
"Not invidious, surely? I wasn't offended." Hermione hoped Snape might follow up the hint, but he chose a negative interpretation.
"Then you should have been. Harry's insinuations were both crude and insulting. You were embarrassed on my account. He should never have put you in that position. To imply that you and I …"
The unspoken implication condensed on his breath in the night air. He couldn't bring himself to say the words.
Was the idea so unthinkable? Why was he deliberately distancing himself from her? Had he spent so long in denial of his feelings that he had started to believe his own propaganda - that any kind of relationship between them was undesirable and inappropriate? Was this some kind of noble self-sacrifice?
Hermione sighed and tried again.
"Harry and I are just friends." It sounded trite, like an excuse. She didn't blame him for not believing her. He remained proudly aloof, stubborn, wounded but determinedly alone.
"Indeed? Then, Miss Granger, you should go back. Go back to your friend."
He wasn't going to listen. Why wouldn't he listen? Hermione didn't know how she was going to get through to him. This was neither the time nor the place for honour or ethics or self-denial. She wasn't sure exactly where she wanted to be with this man, but it was not on a freezing cold hillside, in the dark, arguing…
Hermione came to a decision. There was only one way she could think of to demolish, once and for all, this barrier of misunderstanding. Emboldened by Harry's revelations, she moved closer to him.
"Severus, look at me."
He tensed at the use of his name, but continued to stare forcedly ahead, scowling, his lips compressed into a single, thin, angry line. She planted herself squarely in front of him, and took him firmly by the shoulders; it was impossible for him to ignore her now.
"Severus," she said, "Please, for Merlin's sake, look at me. Look into my eyes and read my mind."
END OF STORY
I thought I should stop here.
It was becoming enough of a soap-opera already!
Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed.
PLEASE NOTE: If any of you expect Lost Perspective 6 (DECK THE HALLS) to be the sequel to LP5, it isn't.
When I completed this one I felt I had taken this thread of the Snape:Harry:Hermione relationship about as far as I wanted to. But I didn't want to let go of the characters. So, I went back to the end of LP3 (REPERCUSSIONS) and wrote LP6 as an alternative sequel to that (one in which Hermione may be sympathetic towards Snape, but there is no actual romance involved.)
It's a Hermione:Neville:Luna:Snape:Draco:Harry story…
1 D.H. Lawrence. 'Women in Love'.
